


Mr. President, Please

by GunneryKnight



Category: Barack Obama - Fandom, Original Work, Political RPF - Russian 21st c., Political RPF - US 21st c., Real Person Fiction, Vladimir Putin - Fandom
Genre: Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Characters, Original Character - Freeform, Torture, hostage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6290908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunneryKnight/pseuds/GunneryKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Air Force One has crashed and The President is stranded alone in enemy territory unfortunately for Barack, Putin has the means to save him. But Putin only plays for keeps when it comes to what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blueberry Hill

Barack’s head bobbed and he hissed in pain his last memories were of the sound of air force one crashing. He felt sore and a sharp pain ran over his whole body. He felt exposed he was in his boxers and undershirt he still had his shoes and socks on. His eyes scanned the large, dungeon-like room. He then looked down to his hands they were chained together and sent through a large welded metal loop on the cement floor. With excess effort Barack tried to lift his foot but gasps in pain and looked to see a large gash along his left leg, his feet are also in chains.

Barack tried to reason out what was going on. How did he get here? Was he captured? And who captured him. He’s in one piece. That is the important thing. That means he still has a chance to escape and survive. 

The door to the room opened he saw the black mask of a soldier he knew the uniform from memory, it was Russian. Putin looked intimidating standing tall with an aura of superiority and confidence. His gray suit that was finely pressed drawing a garish comparison between the cell and the two men within it. 

“Putin.” Barack said with a paused. “How have you been?” Asking with a nervous twitch of his face

“Fantastic,” Putin said with his thick Russian drawl. “And you?”

“I could be better.” Barack said trying to exude the confidence he didn’t have. Hoping Putin wouldn’t notice how truly nervous he was.

“At least you are alive.” His voice was cold and barren of emotion, like a wind wafting slowly through the frozen tundra of Russia. 

“I dislike America but I am conflicted because I do enjoy you. Now that I have you it will be much simpler to deal with your country.” Vladimir said a small smile forming on his face.

“And my wife and daughters?” Barack asked trying to keep his calm and poise.

“Hmm” Putin hummed thinking letting Barack panic needing an answer “they will be fine as long as I am satisfied.” 

Barack frowned several unpleasant scenarios racing through his mind he was trapped with a mad tyrant in a foreign country and he assumes that his own people thing that he is dead. “American does not negotiate with terrorists.” Barack warned. Putin smirked darkly at Barack that wasn’t an outcome he will allow Barack to see.

“You should really calm down and think Mr. President. Because you don’t want to lie to me” Putin said with a deliberate tap to Barack’s forehead. “Because I seem to remember you issuing an executive order allowing negotiations with Terrorists but that doesn’t matter now since I already have you and I do plan to keep you.” 

Barack laughed dryly a slight edge to his voice. “So you have Crimea and Ukraine, but now you got an American President, kind of a step back don’t you say” Barack sounded bitter which game Putin great satisfaction.

“Don’t sell yourself so short Obama, it did cost me a fair bit to have you still be alive.” Putin reached up and brushed a thumb over Barack’s cheek.

“And you are a mighty fine prize.” Barack’s eyes widen in horror as he went from looking from Putin to the single soldier that stood between him and the door to his chance to escape.  

“Did you orchestrated this, Putin?” Barack said with a cold accusatory glare.

Putin frowned slumping slightly. “Do you really think I would do that Barack,” he said in a comforting tone “I didn’t but I will take advantage of it.” And I will take advantage of you, was blatantly hinted to Barack as Putin touched Barack’s knee. His eyes taking in Barack’s battered form guiding his eyes to look at his critically then settling on the deep gash on his leg.

Putin spoke in Russian addressing the soldier who left the room and quickly returned with a First Aid kit. He gave a final nod to the soldier who then left the room a loud deadlock popped closing the two of them in together.

“Don’t look so glum Barack, I promise we will have a fantastic time-well at least I will.” Putin said with a dark frightening look. “So we need to talk about the terms of your visit, well I’ll tell you them.”   
Barack sucked in a disgusted breath a sickening feeling sinking into his bone and with the treat of bile spilling out of his mouth. All he needs to do is stay alive until he is found to be alive and be saved from this madman. 


	2. La Vie en rose

Barack spitted up a mouth full of blood onto the concrete he could feel the cut on his cheek with his bloody tongue. Putin said that he would be beaten and tortured for information till he felt that he had enough. It has been a week, Barack thinks. He hadn’t seen Putin in that period of time, but he knew he was watching somewhere getting off on watching him suffer.

One of the soldier that he saw each day who always sat in the back on the only chair in the room watching as the torture went underway. Normally he would be the first to leave the room and the last to come into the room at the beginning of the day. Today he stayed after everyone else left. Every soldier he saw wore a black balaclava but Barack was able to recognize him from a scar on his lip and eyebrow.

The stranger pulled the mask came off, he was younger than Barack by at least 20 years but he had the eyes of someone who has lived several lifetimes. He had a close dark hair cut and pale gray eyes that exceeding Vladimir’s cold empty eyes. He didn’t make eye contact with Barack as he sat down in a chair he pulled to Barack who was still lying on the ground. He pulled out a packed of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Now let’s talk,” the soldier said with a heavy Russian accent “I want to know about the drones.”

There is a long silence and the soldier speak again. “Is there something I can do for your kids, you concerned about them?” Barack clinches his jaw feeling the sickening worry rolling back. How were his children doing the image of Putin comforting them brought out a stomach churning rage.

“Tell me what you want?” The soldier said. He watched Barack’s eyes as they look to the door on the opposite side of the room. The soldier took a long drag from his cig turning to look at the door as well then the security camera that look back at him like a cruel dead god.

“Script for me your exit strategy. How do you see yourself getting out of this terrible situation,” he said forcing Barack to look at him with a large finger under his chin. “You put yourself in this situation and you need to make peace with that.” Barack pulled his head away letting him head drop in defeat. “Help me find the strategy to give you a life.” He said looking to see Barack crack. Barack brought his hands to his face hiding the distressed sick tears that ran down his face. The soldier kept a poker face stubbing out the cigarette pulling out a handkerchief and handed it to the President of the U.S.

“There is nothing I can tell you that would be of any use” Barack said he took the handkerchief dabbing the tears away. It was a lie but a lie brought on that he hoped the longer he hold out the greater chance he could escape. But now it seems hopeless.

The soldier didn’t believe him but for now he will let it be. “Hungry?” The soldier asked. Barack nodded.

“What is your name?” Barack asked sounding panicked as the only person that had shown him any kindness was about to leave him. Possibly to the hands of the other soldiers.

“Nikita” he said dryly disappearing into the dark grimy hall that had lights that would flicker on and off. The door closed with a deafening click of several different locks.

Barack slumped against the table that was the only thing keeping him propped up, he looked around the room it was the third room he had been moved to since arriving in this prison. He frowned when he felt the twisting of his bowls and looked to the empty bucket that was across the room from him with a roll of toilet paper on the ground. ‘At least they don’t want me shitting on the floor’ Barack chided bitterly to himself secretly relieved.

***

“Nikita,” a fellow soldier said as he came from behind Nikita. His balaclava was tucked in a front pocket. He had an odd swagger combined with extreme tiredness from the hours of torture he used against another prisoner who has been more unreasonable than the American.

“Afanasy. What is it?” Nikita asked. Who was finished writing down an order for the new intern to bring food in for the American. Glancing over to see his dark brown eyes looking over Nikita’s list as finished it. His short brown hair had dried blood into and was greatly disheveled.

“How’s it going with the American?” Afansay asked. Personally he never interrogated an American he always wondered how loud they screamed or if they started to scream their national anthem while they die. But he didn’t know English so whatever they said would just be noise to him.

“It’s going. Grabbing some food then going to get to work.” He said bored he was never one to talk about his work and he found Afanasy’s constant questions annoying. Afansay frowned moving to stand to Nikita’s right-side and propping himself against the wall.

“Putin is itching for results.” Afanasy said with a nudge of his shoulder. Nikita rolled his eyes he was well aware of what his leader wanted.

“I bet he does.” Afanasy frowned at Nikita’s complete lack of interest. Nikita was never the one to show great interest in anything, lucky for him he isn’t a boring man or Afanasy would ignore him altogether.

The sound of high heels marching across cement came from down the hallway. “Zoya” Nikita said to a young nervous female. She was the intern who had probably hope for a happier place to work but you don’t always get what you want in this world.

“Yes Sir?” She asked in a small mousy voice. She was tall in comparison to both Nikita and Afanasy and broad shoulders. Despite her innocent demeanor she was as nervous as the other prisoners trapped inside of this prison.

“I need you to fetch food for me. Here’s the list be sure to be back here in 30 minutes no longer than that.” Nikita instructed. Zoya looked at the list and nodded then looked to Afanasy and gave him an acknowledging nod. Afanasy smiled stepping aside to let her run off.

“It’s nice to have something pretty to look at.” Afanasy commented as he watched her leave then looked back at Nikita who was busy pulling out a few water bottle from plastic wrap, he frowned slightly then shrugged. “Not as pretty as you.” Afanasy said with a joking smirk. Nikita turned his eyes to Afanasy giving his an icy cold glare that rivaled Oymyakon.

“Be careful what you say, comrade or you may end up in here as a prisoner.” Despite his rather frightening glare Afanasy couldn’t help a snort of laughter as he left to go take a nap. Nikita went to wait for the food to arrive not wanting to go back to the American, just yet.

 


	3. Non, je ne regrette rien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait to update I had the hardest time trying to decide what I wanted to with this chapter.

The door to his prison came open. Nikita looked down to see Barack in the same spot he had left him. Nikita let out a sigh looking at the sad sight before him he set the set of bags and drinks onto the table. Then walked around to the other side and pulled Barack to the chair.

Nikita wordlessly tore open the bag and set out the containers .The food smelled delicious but anything would take better than the stale water and bread he has had to subside off for the past week.

“Drink: Sbiten, Food: Blintzes filled with potato, quark, cottage cheese, chicken, chopped mushrooms, and onions. I have Beef Stroganov w/ pasta and Sbiten.” Nikita said while pointing. He slid the food over to Barack and placed black plastic fork and knife onto the table.

They ate in silence Barack slowly ate his food savoring his meal for as long as he could. While Nikita shoveled his food into his mouth in a near slovenly manner using his hands only. Though he was strangely silent in his eating habits.

Barack finished this last bite of food. “Let’s talk about American nuclear site that are not on American soil.” Nikita said.

“I can’t tell you this you know that.” Barack said with a long pause as he looked at his hands. Nikita frowned then hit his fist hard against the steel table sending Barack reeling back in fear his eyes transfixed on his captor.

Nikita nodded “Yes, but know this if you cannot give me any usable information I cannot keep you safe.” He pointed to the security camera that loomed over them watching every move listening to every word.

Following a long silence where there was an exchange of nervous glances from Barack then the quivering of a lip. There was a loud bang at the door. Nikita raised his hand to Barack in a move to calm him “be calm, I will be back.”

He left the room and closed the door behind him and pushed the soldier down the hall. “ _What are you doing I am in the middle of my interrogation”_ Nikita said with a scowl. Dragging his thumb against his scared lips.

“ _I know Nikita but its Putin. He wants to see your prisoner right away.”_ The soldier said.

Nikita’s face fell more, Putin was never the quick to action type but he was violent, and nasty. Nikita would prefer to have a buffer between his prisoner and the Russian leader.   


A terrible scenario ran through his mind and it persisted till his vision blacken and blurred driving an obsession to see it happen while not for real he want to finish the fantasy so it would leave him in peace.

**

Putin entered the room with the rigid tight stride he always had his right fist clenched tight around nothing.

“What do you get by having me?” Barack asked.

Putin smiled to himself “Satisfaction.”

“The UN no the world won’t stand for this” Barack said with bite.

Putin leaned in slightly an amused glint in his eyes. “The UN are toothless and once your people elect Trump as your president you place in this world. America's place will die. And you will watch. But till then I have more entertaining plans.” He smiled looking down on Barack like a subjugated peon.

Barack looked to Nikita with abject horror and shock unable to process what is going to happen to him. Nikita leaned close to his ear and whispered “whatever you do, do not cry.” It was always displeasing to have to watch someone torture your prisoner when you would rather do it yourself but Nikita hoped that Putin wouldn’t kill the American once he had his fun. It would seem rather rude, at least he thinks so.

A cassette recorder was placed on the table and turned on. Barack yelled trying to worm away from the people holding him down.

“ _Nikita, keep him calm we don’t want him tearing”_ Putin said with a humorous smile. Nikita nodded as he pulled the balaclava over his face to hide his disgust.

“I brought some music you may enjoy, but I really don’t care either way” Putin chuckled.

Putin pulled out a CD from the suitcase and handed it off to a soldier who slipped it into a player that was resting near a corner besides other torture equipment.  

“When the record stops that is when I will” Putin motioned to start. A faint droning came from the CD player then the music came in a steady calm wave. An American composer Philip Glass a good choice.

It was amusing to see a man in his sixties outpacing a man in his forties ‘I guess the things they say about the American food literally killing their people is true.’ Nikita thought to himself as he let his mind wander to other more pressing things. Like when can I go home, when will he die, when will the prisoner die, when is the next Kung Fu Panda movie going to come out, and what is for dinner.

The building music pressed hard on his chest with the franticness of the music came to bear Nikita nearly expected Putin to ask for a knife to hack at his victim with…

***

“ _Nikita_ ” my mind came to a screeching halt, I paused before looking to the man who said my name.

 _“Why are you standing there Nikita?”_ It was Putin he is speaking to me. How long had I zoned out here? He had to know I wasn’t in my right mind, he had to know.

“ _I was told you wanted to meet with the prisoner, Sir.”_ I kept my face impassive and stern. Putin let out a slight breathy sigh.

“ _Is there a problem with that?”_ He asked probably genuinely caring.

“ _No sir, I just wanted to know if he would be alive afterwards.”_ Nikita asked.

“ _Most likely,”_ Putin said with a cold smile “ _I understand your concern it isn’t every day we get a prisoner such as him in our custody.”_

“ _It’s dangerous for us to even have him alive or otherwise, I worry.”_ Nikita said with genuine concern, for they all most put the people and the motherland above all else.


	4. Milord

“ _Things will be as they once were. I have the prisoner moved to the cameraless room. I want you and only you to wait outside of the room.”_ Putin said. Nikita quirked his eyebrow unsure of why him of all people.

“ _May I ask why me sir?”_ Nikita asked.

Putin smiled mostly to himself amused but not wanting to divulge, what the joke is “ _I trust you. It is just that simple.”_

Vladimir leaned in close to Barack closing the distance between the two of them. He brushed his thumb across his lips and frowned whispering something that brought a smile to Barack’s face.

Nikita felt deftly alone in the presence of the tender moment that should have been viewed by only these two men and god.

“My dear compeer” Putin whispered as he placed a delicate kiss against the other man’s neck. Quickly leading to deep, lingering, sweet, exploratory kisses. Putin pulled back pulling a said cry from the prisoner who was craving the contact of his foreign lover, “Such a shame” Putin whispered as he caressed the cut on Baracks lower lip.

“Not one for hospitality are you?” Barack said with a joking laugh.

“Could have made this a whole lot painless if you visited Russia on your own accord.” Putin responded humorlessly.

“Not what the fun in that. Not that any of this was particularly fun. _At all._ ” Barack frowned giving Putin a half serious glare. Putin wasn’t look at Baracks eyes he was entranced by his mouth wanted to steal his breath and make his moan his name begging for me filled and satisfied.

“I’m still upset with you for not coming to the Nuclear Summit.” Barack tilled his head locking eyes with Putin who wasn’t too interested in talking.

Putin smiled “I told your people that I wouldn’t come a year before the meeting.” Barack pouted in frustration “Plus where were you when I was going through my divorce. I really could have used your company as a distraction.”

Barack raised his eyebrows in surprise then concern laced them along with a warm smile. Putin sucks in a short breath and averts his eyes pressing his face against the exposed dark skin. “You could have called. I can’t be running of to Russia with the reason being _‘my lover needs a hug’_ it’s not gonna sit well my cabinet or my wife...”

Putin snaked his hands under the trousers of the prisoner garb that Barack was wearing “getting right to the point as always.” Barack gasped his face pressing against Putin’s chest blindly searching for the lips of his lover.

Putin tugged down Baracks trousers along with his own quickly unbuttoning himself as slipping his cock out of his underwear. He quickly guided Barack to sit on his lap properly “no lube or condom. Monster.” Barack said with a shaky laughed as he slowly stand down on the impressive length that entered him. “Vladimir.” Barack gasped his body contorting as Putin rand his hand over the greying hair on Baracks head, he has gotten so old in these 8 years.

“Their running you ragged, you are too good for them, and you should stay here with.” Putin whispers each word between possessive hard kisses that would bruise.

Barack gasped between the thrusts of Putin’s hips. “Easier said than done Vlad.”

Obama lets out a groan panting as sweat dripped from his brow. “Faster.” Putin nodes wordlessly till they both reach orgasm Putin releases inside of Barack and finally pulls out once he has milked himself dry. Putin could feel Baracks seed on his hand from the other man’s release.

“Encore” Barack said with a laugh stealing a kiss from his lover. There was a pause then came 3 simple words that dug deep. “I love you” Barack said his eyes locked onto Putin’s who looked back with a burning rising to his face that he pushed away by responding with.

“I know” Putin said dryly trying to be suave but just coming of as a bit too stiff which made Barack smile and laugh.

The prisoner, the president of the U.S.A was sent home soon after this affair. Everything is wrong with this whole scenario when he looks to his leader, Putin looks like a man lost at sea waiting for another human being to save him as Barack steps onto that helicopter their eyes connecting and holding each other in place. With the silent promise that _one day_ they would meet again, no matter what.

There was no retaliation against Russia, hell they even sent a halfhearted thank you note. Nikita figured that maybe there was a long relationship that couldn’t go on for long since the end of his presidential term.


End file.
